


Damage Control

by tormental (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Depression, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Slow Build, idk just read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tormental
Summary: Jean Kirschtein got the biggest wakeup call of his like 72 hours ago, and he is utterly ruined.If only there were a certain freckle-faced boy to make it all better...Oh wait, there is.Basically Jean crying at his little sister's birthday party was the best most embarrassing thing he could've ever done.
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Kudos: 5





	Damage Control

**Author's Note:**

> this hurt me to write seeing as i woke up this morning with the biggest writing bug i have ever had. it is now nearly 6 pm and i am eating dinner as a i FINALLY publish this after writing all day.
> 
> a god?  
> maybe.
> 
> actually im not im just stupid

When you’re eleven, you’re typically naive. You know the basis of good and evil, but you don’t know the difference. You’re innocent.

My little sister, Cornelia, is innocent. I, however, am not.

You may now be trying the question: Why does it matter? Shouldn’t you just enjoy your childhood as it is?

Maybe, though I don’t think I’m qualified to tell you that at all.

It’s something even I question, as I sit out in the blazing sun, watching a group of ten and eleven year olds run around, screaming bloody murder during a very intense game of freeze tag. I see some of them frozen, itching to move. I see some of them tripping over their own feet, mirroring the actions of the kids they appear to be chasing. Though all I know is the un-freezer is doing a wack ass job, because the main tagger is right on his tail, and the kid hasn’t even had the chance to unfreeze anyone yet. Lame.

I probably would’ve done a much better job at being the un-freezer, but the difference is I’m eighteen. Much faster and despite me being pretty small-framed, stronger. These kids wouldn’t stand a chance. For all I know, they would rebel against me and take me down for being better than them. The true hierarchy would crumble. Ultra lame.

My eyes follow mostly the un-freezer as he is soon tackled to the ground by the main tagger, and a muffled scream escaped his throat as the other kids watched on in horror. The good guys have fallen, and the evil has won, though their faces are the biggest win in my book. The losers make expressions only known to me as major disappointment, and the band of winners smiled so large I felt their faces would be permanently contorted that way for good. Kids.

The attention is then drawn to my sister, the true girl of the hour. I mean it’s her birthday after all. She is also, fortunately enough, on the winning side. I watch her stand in a triumphant pose, her hands held tightly above her head as she screamed happily along with that of the other winners. Her ash blonde hair fell into her eyes as she then started to laugh, and I swear I can almost see her green eyes gleaming in the harsh sunlight. She’s tall for her age, sort of towering above the other kids that now crowded around her.

She’s very much eleven and innocent. I almost smile at the thought, but I can’t bring myself to.

There are other things weighing heavily on my mind, things that I probably shouldn’t be thinking about at my sister’s birthday party. Things that involve major heartbreak and my ultimate yet recent downfall.

My girlfriend broke up with me three days ago.

I would’ve loved to sit there and pity myself more, but I was yanked out of my thoughts by my sister running up to me, her eyes definitely gleaming in the early October sunlight. It’s extremely hot for this time of year, and I can’t put my finger on an exact reason as to why. Global warming, maybe? Probably. I have no fucking clue, honestly. All I know is that it’s hot and it shouldn’t be. There’s a lot of things I’m feeling that I shouldn’t be.

“Jean! Jean!” She squeals, her hand grasping my arm tightly. “Did you see that? We won!” She’s jittery and out of breath, but I can hear the utter excitement laced into her voice. It’s almost endearing.

I manage to summon a laugh from somewhere deep inside myself, though I know it isn’t genuine. I force myself to smile with it. “Yep, I saw it. Congrats. You’re definitely the superior one of the Kirschtein siblings now.” She probably always has been.

My comment made her face light up even more. “Really?” She asked leaning into my face. You know the whole thing younger kids do, where they get in your face when they’re extra excited. They don’t understand personal boundaries at all.

I nod at her, and with that she backs up from me a little bit, her hand now falling away from my arm. Her smile doesn’t fade, though. That’s Cornelia Kirschtein for you. Most definitely the superior of us two. I’ve never seen her cry. She’s always smiling. Extremely positive. Everything that I absolutely am not, and will never be no matter how hard I try. Even when our family seemed to hit rock bottom, I think she was the only one who kept our spirits high. No, I know she was the only one. She was the only one because she was too young to understand the real pain behind it all. A lot of the time, I pray I was that way too. But I’m not naive anymore... I’m not eleven anymore.

“Well…” There’s now a sheepish smile plastered across her face. “I-I couldn’t have done it without Braden.”

Ah, Braden. My best friend Sasha’s little brother, who was just a few months older than Cornelia. I swear to god, the number of times they’ve admitted to both Sasha and I that they’ve had crushes on each other is immeasurable. Though they’re too afraid to say anything to each other, and whenever Cornelia gets close, she just automatically starts bullying him and Braden almost always laughs in response. They’ve been like that since they were both five. You would think something would’ve happened by now, being that they’re both certainly young and dumb, but I guess not. 

Just because my relationship failed, doesn’t mean hers has to.

“Well, maybe you should go thank him then.” I muttered.

Her face turned red right away. “Uh… No! Why would I do that?” I can hear the fake disgust in her voice as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“He deserves to know that you think he helped you win. I’m sure he would appreciate it. So stop being stubborn and go.” I reply back quickly, moving my hands in the get away from me gesture.

I can’t believe I’m helping my eleven year old sister get a boyfriend.

She stared at me in the eyes, and I swear her eyes could bore holes through my skin if she stared too long. Her light green eyes differed heavily from my light brown ones, and I almost wish I had her eye color too. Our hair was nearly the same, apart from mine being a ridiculous two-toned mess. We still looked related, and I guess that’s all that really matters here. She definitely took more after our dad though. A constant reminder I’m sure my mom tries to ignore.

Speaking of our mom, I could see her over and mingling with the other parents. She was such a people-pleaser it was a little embarrassing. I never saw her appearance lacking. She was constantly dressed up nice, probably trying to convince everyone who saw us that we were fine. That we had no issues to speak of, when in reality, we did.

Dad had walked out on us shortly after Cornelia was born, and that was it.

We were fine. Fine enough.

I felt my fake smiling face slip into a frown as Cornelia continued to stare at me. “Should I really tell him?”

I nodded at her, her blush deepening. “Okay… Fine. If I’m not back in five minutes, I probably died of embarrassment and it’ll be your fault!”

“You’re reading too much into this!” I called as she turned to jog away from me, and I swear I can hear her telling me to shut up as she slowly delved out of earshot. Figures. She was only ever somewhat mean when it came to her crush on Braden.

Though I also figured I should take my own criticism. You’re reading too much into this! Yes, Jean, you one-hundred percent are reading way too much into this. Your failed relationship. Your greatest mistake. Your regrets. Your uselessness. Your newfound pit of unforgiving depression. All of it was a book you were forcing yourself to open and read, when in reality, you could close it and be done with it. You never have to touch it again if you don’t want to. It just isn’t that easy though, and it will never be that easy to forget. I don’t think I could forget even if my memory was wiped. Amnesia with a hint of failure.

I want someone to hit me so hard I forget everything. Maybe I’ll die if I’m lucky enough.  
I’ve been lying to myself ever since it happened, but it does hurt. It hurts like hell. It feels like a bullet has been jabbed slowly into my heart, making it all the more painful. I’ve been trying to act like I’m fine, like my mom does even now when questioned about her emotional state. We’re both liars. Though one little lie helps us through it all, so I guess it’s fine. All it’ll ever be is fine.

I know mom tries her best, but I can see that she hurts. I’ve tried to ignore it before, but I used to stay up at night, listening to her cry. We were a ragtag bunch of idiots who dealt with feelings the hard way. Stupid of us, really.

My thoughts plague me, and I gotta keep telling myself that this isn’t the appropriate time to have a mental breakdown. Saving that for after the little kids go home is definitely more of the optimal time. Then you can freak out all you want Jean. All you want.

The incessant laughter from the kids around me would barely be enough to distract me, even if one child completely barreled into me, I would probably still be mindlessly dead. It’s all I had been for the last 72 hours.

Suddenly I wish I was eleven again. Careless. The only emotional I can feel is either pure joy or frustration over something not going my way. Dumbly naive, but in the best way possible. Why can’t time travel exist? If I were eleven, I would still have her. Another shot, do what I could to not lose.

Thankfully someone else comes up to me and yanks me from my depressive thoughts.

Sasha. Here with her little brother, of course.

“You look like you absolutely want to die. Wanna talk about it?” I note she has a can in her hand as she says this, popping the tab. It’s coca cola, my favorite soft drink of all time even though it’s been proven to legitimately have the power to cure rust and clean toilets. Very hardcore.

I grimace at the thought of it, though. “Not exactly, no.” 

“You’re lame.” Is all she says, plopping down next to me.

“How am I lame for not wanting to recount the incident that left me feeling complacently numb?” I question, a light layer of sarcasm dripping from my vocal chords.

Sasha shook her head. “Only kidding. Sort of.” She then nudged me slightly in the rib, causing me to straighten out my spine. “You’re gonna be okay, man. I know it’s tough but we’ll make it through this. If it helps, she was a bitch anyway… Besides that one time she helped that homeless man or fostered puppies一”

“Sash, you’re not helping whatsoever.”

Her facial expression dropped next to me. “Uh, sorry. I just wish I could help you a little more, man. I know you’re in a lot of pain since she meant the world to you, but you gotta know that you’ll get over her one of these days. Also, I know it’s only been like, what, three days?” She paused to take a shallow breath. “Just know I’m trying my best here, and that it’ll hurt for a while but…” She ultimately let her voice trail off.

I appreciate the sentiment, I do. It’s not like I’m not thankful for it, because I’m more thankful for it then Sasha will ever come to understand. What she doesn’t get is the fact that my world was fine one day, and broke into a million little pieces the next. Her love life has been perfect. She’s been with Connie Springer since freshman year, and here we all are in our senior year, and they’re still attached at the hip. I’m sure their relationship isn’t as great as I make it sound, but they still have their respective first loves, each other, and mine practically dumped me off in a ditch and told me to get lost. Very different yet very real. I had gone two years with the same person by my side, and now she won’t even talk to me. All too real, if you ask me. I wish it were a dream, but hell, I’m definitely not that lucky.

I swear to god I can hear one of the newer Taylor Swift songs about a breakup playing somewhere in the yard as these thoughts ran through my mind. Very funny. Not.

Sasha pursed her lips and elbowed me again, garnering my shitty attention. “Jean, point is, just grieve all you want. You’ll get over it one of these days.”

How to tell her that I’m aware of this? I don’t know, and so I don’t. I don’t even try and make an attempt.

“Yeah…” Suddenly it was quiet after my simple reply. Sasha’s hand made her way to my knee and she squeezed it. “I just,” I gulped, my hands now fiddling with a button on my shirt. “wish I knew when I was going to get over this. What would make this all go faster.”

Sasha shook her head. “Dunno. You’ll figure it out.” 

She sounded so sure that I would be able to solve this. 

“Okay.” Was all I said back, and I leaned into Sasha with that, causing her to adjust herself.

She squeezed my knee yet again, a brief jolt going through my body. “Jean, I believe in you.”

I only nodded as the kids began to catch my vision again. Both Cornelia and Braden had made them all gather ‘round, looking like they were going to start a new game of freeze tag. This time, I guess, Cornelia was the un-freezer and Braden was the main tagger. Very unusual since those two always chose to be on the same team together. I couldn’t believe they were splitting apart like that.

Splitting apart. Hilarious.

No, Jean, no. No! Not the time!

I felt tears start to form in my eyes and I blinked rapidly in order to get them to disappear. Thankfully I don’t think Sasha noticed at all.

Stop crying, you useless piece of trash.

The kids then split apart, sprinting away from each other, leaving Braden standing in the middle of the yard alone. I watched his eyes follow Cornelia away, who ran into the far corner away from everyone. I had no clue what she was doing, because if I were the un-freezer, I would try and stick close to everyone so that I could help them faster. Braden then started to scream-count down from the number twelve (quite odd if you ask me), and once he hit zero, he split off towards the younger kids who weren’t as fast. What a cheap move, Braden. How insensitive.

Though I suppose he was right in doing so. He was going after what was easier to achieve, and he would work his way up to the harder stuff. Maybe he was an honorable man, after all. Boy. An honorable boy.

I watched as he knocked two kids out in the first minute. There were about twenty kids in total, so he had a lot of ground to cover. Apparently, the rule they came up with was that if you got tagged and three more people got tagged after you before you get unfreezed, you were now a tagger. I didn’t know how a bunch of simple-minded children came out with that rule, but it seemed to work. In no time, the first two kids tagged were now taggers, joining Braden in the hunt.

The credit shouldn’t be pulled away from Cornelia though. She chased after the frozen kids and slapped them so hard on the arm, I felt it in my own skin. I’m sure that would sting and bruise tomorrow. Damn, my little sister was a savage. Brutal, even.

This was an all-out war. Kids were screaming at the top of their lungs, falling over each other.

Must be nice to be young again.

The adults watched and laughed, one of which being my mom. I could hear her laugh from probably a mile away. It was loud and bold, something you wouldn’t expect from a lady as put together as her. Her dark hair swayed in the wind as she cheered for my sister who had just put another kid back in the game. Brilliant, really. At least she was happy.

The game continued on for around ten more minutes before my sister was eventually taken out by none of than Braden. “That’s so unfair! Of course he tagged me out!” She screeched, and all I could hear was Braden laughing at her. Very smooth, bro. That’s the girl you want to date, and here you are, laughing at the fact that you beat her in a game of freeze tag.

It was completely laughable, their dynamic. Cornelia looked to be fuming and Braden continued to laugh at her. I swear to god I almost saw her go in for a punch before the moment was interrupted by my mom sounding off and telling the kids that cake would finally be served.

There I was again, left with no distraction. Sasha had wandered off to go assist her brother, and I sat there, reminded again of how empty I actually felt. Damn, I’m extremely pathetic, aren’t I? No one else would ever be permitted to answer that question, only myself.

I felt tears brim in my eyes yet again, and this time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop them from falling. When did I become such a baby?

I had to leave and go somewhere before I got caught crying in the middle of my little sister’s birthday party.

The bathroom seemed all too far away though as tears started to flow as soon as I reached the inside of my house. I felt the salted droplets worm their way down my face, warm but cold at the same time. Extremely pathetic, I am. Obviously. Here I was, standing in my kitchen, crying my eyes out and for what? Something I should just forget about? Something I feel like will always haunt me? My tears made my vision blurry as I stumbled to the bar, gripping onto it so hard my hands started to lose color. My heart beat dangerously hard within my chest and I was really sobbing at this point. I looked like a loser, I’m sure. I am definitely a loser for standing in the middle of my kitchen and crying over a girl dumping me. I thought I was stronger than this, but boys aren’t as unemotional as you would think. Truth was, I hurt. I am hurting more than I would ever like to admit. A huge part of me wishes I didn’t know how to hurt. That would makes things undeniably easier. Though if things were meant to be easy, then would any of us truly know suffering or what it stands for? Probably.

My thoughts didn’t matter much as soon as I noticed I wasn’t alone in the kitchen.

There was a boy standing there, wiping what looked to be like icing from his sun-kissed hands. He looked around my age, though I can’t be sure. He definitely had a larger build than me, his shoulders so broad they defined where his shirt had to stretch just to cover them. He was tanned, more so than me because I know I look like a ghost. His face was peppered with freckles, and his black hair had a cowlick down the center. If his hair were any longer, his bangs would fall into his eyes. He was the guy every girl would have a crush on. Hell, I’m sure he is that guy.

“Uh, are you okay?” He asked carefully, setting down his napkin he used to wipe the icing on his hands with.

Somehow I brought myself to shake my head.

“Um, well first off, I’m Marco. I, uh, assist the caterer. So I’m sorry for looking kind of rough but… D’ya wanna maybe sit and talk about it? I have time.” The boy, Marco, rambled.

Marco.

“J-Jean, uh, yeah. I’m Jean. Older brother of the birthday girl and a complete fucking mess.”

He chuckled at that, and I don’t know why.

It’s quiet for a few moments before I speak again. “Um, yeah, I can talk. Good at doing that.”

This was so awkward. More than I would like to admit. He came around the bar and pulled out a seat next to me, both of us sitting down simultaneously. His gaze never left mine. Marco’s eyes were a dark brown, though the light from the window shone into them, making them appear like honey. His freckles glimmered and his hair fell a little more into his face as he leaned his chin onto his hand. “What’s up?”

I sniffled, baffled at myself for stopping crying so suddenly.

Was I really about to tell a stranger my lovelife issues? Apparently so. He seemed eager to know, anyway. The way he stared at me proved to me that he actually cared to listen even though he had no absolute idea who I am.

“Oh, uh yeah,” He started out of nowhere. “I know this is a bit forward but here’s my number.” He pulled a napkin to him, took a pen out of his front shirt pocket, and scribbled a little mix of numbers onto it. “I just feel like you might wanna talk sometime after this, seeing as how much you were sobbing when you came in.”

Marco… really gave his number to someone he doesn’t know. Is he insane? Probably.

“Uh, t-thanks.” I grumbled out, taking the napkin and stuffing it into my pocket without even glancing at it. “You’re too nice.”

He nodded at me, and I couldn’t help but stare at the way his hair moved with his head. The smile never left his face, either. How could one show so much concern in their eyes but keep such a genuine smile on their face? Bewildering, really. I could never.

Marco then shrugged slightly, his response to my words seeming a little delayed. “Don’t mention it. I’m just concerned because I don't think I’ve ever seen someone cry that much at a little girl’s birthday party… Plus, sorry to say it, but you look rough.”

Oh.

“Thanks man, I try and manage, I guess.” I muttered as a reply. I found myself fiddling with the buttons on my shirt again. Nervous habit.

I could feel Marco eyeing me, setting my back ablaze. This was utterly embarrassing. More embarrassing than Sasha and Connie watching me scream into a pillow just an hour after it initially happened. I would never live this down if anyone saw this. If mom saw it, she would just be extra concerned. She doesn’t know about my girlfriend dumping me. If my sister saw it, she might laugh. Then hug me. Or vice versa. If any other guest saw this, they would just think that I was weird, which I definitely am. Totally weird.

Marco got my attention when he looked me in the eyes after a minute of silence. “You can tell me what’s up whenever you feel up for it. Again, I got time. Loads of it. These kids could eat forever.”

I slightly laughed at that. He was so nice. “Thanks.” I whispered.

Silence followed for another minute or so, and his eyes never left mine.

Finally I opened my mouth to speak.

“Marco, my girlfriend of two years dumped me three days ago... because she fell in love with my best friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> i cant say much besides please don't ask for updates or i will sue
> 
> jean is hurting and so am i


End file.
